


All the stars calling out your name

by IdeaOfStars



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: ANGSTY ANGST ANGST, Angst, F/F, Hurt No Comfort, I can't write but here i am doing it anyway, I guess future AU, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Like this is sad, Penny has good friends though, This took me a week to write, also this took the place of a different sadfic I was gonna write, but also AU, guess who's back on their bullshit, im sad so this happened, its me, loosely based off the Jini episode, posie(past), thank me cause that was way worse, the merge, uh im sorry?, uhhh idk what else to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 15:36:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18641026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IdeaOfStars/pseuds/IdeaOfStars
Summary: “What? What is? Did you find a cure?”“Penelope,” A quiet sob echoed in the background of wherever Hope was. “Penelope, Josie’s dead.”





	All the stars calling out your name

**Author's Note:**

> Been a while, and this is what y'get. Title is from OAR's Miss You All The Time. This bounced around in my head for probably a month before I actually wrote it b/c that song gives me feels. Fixing the formatting on this was actually hell. All mistakes are my own, um enjoy?

  
The soft chirping of crickets living in the wall blending with the muffled hum of the city made for perfect white noise as Penelope poured over yet another old tome. She and her team were making significant progress on a cure for the merge. With MG checking a lead in Canada, some of the Mikaelson family talking to old witches in New Orleans, and a number of others researching, Penelope couldn’t help but feel they were on the verge of a breakthrough. One that might save the twins. One that might save Josie. The older Saltzman girl had made peace with Penelope’s role in saving her life, the more the merrier she’d relented. The two were friendly, though not as friendly as Penelope would have liked. But she was nothing if not patient and if Josie wanted to wait until they knew she’d live, then wait she would.

New York had turned out to be a goldmine for information, and Penelope had been the first to volunteer to be the one to go. She had a small apartment, and as cozy as it was, the place was temporary and she treated it as such. Only staying to sleep and eat. The rest of the time she pounded the pavement for a solution. The merge had consumed her life since she first found out about it at sixteen. One might say she was obsessed, but when the love of your life could die, who could blame her?

Leaving for Belgium to work with Caroline had been the best choice for her and for Josie. Penelope was able to put her nervous energy to use and she had finally felt as though she was helping, as though something was getting done, as though her girl might have a chance. It’d taken some adjusting but with Penelope’s absence, Josie had finally learned to put herself first. She’d been firm with Lizzie and the girl had learned to rely on herself and not sacrifice her twin’s needs for her own. It had killed Penelope to be away from Josie, to break both their hearts once again but it had been for the better, and if she had known what would happen because of it, she’d have done it a thousand times over.

  
Flicking through the pages of the ancient book, Penelope scanned for any new information. There had been many successes, yes. But there had also been a multitude of dead ends; painful failures that scarred both mind and body. A rather nasty encounter with an angry werewolf had left Penelope with a jagged scar snaking along her spine, not to mention countless spidery marks from too many fights to count. The physical was nothing compared to the despair that plagued the girl’s every breath after a botched mission, though. The witch closed the book with a sigh and slid it onto the end table that sat by her chair. She stood and stretched before deciding that a cup of tea was in order. If you had told teenage Penelope that she would consider a cup of tea and a quiet night in the ideal way to spend an evening, she’d of laughed you out of town. And yet, here she was. _Funny how things change._ She thought, chuckling to herself as she poured a cup, boiling the water with a quick spell. Josie might be the resident pyromaniac but no one could say Penelope Park didn’t have a penchant for fire.

Gazing out the window, Penelope admired the mundane people hurrying about, some eager to get home, other just beginning to party despite the late hour. How lucky were they? Not worrying about magic or monsters. Merges or otherwise. The only worry Penelope could fathom them sharing was whether or not they would ever get the girl back. It might have been five years since she dated Josie Saltzman but her feelings for the siphoner hadn’t faded. She’d always known Josie was it for her, she only hoped that the same could be said about her. Josie was stubborn but she wasn’t stupid. The girl knew what she wanted. Penelope just wondered if it was still her.

A blaring ringtone broke Penelope out of her musing. There weren't many people who called her, less that would call her this late. And none about anything other than one very specific thing. Penelope’s heart sped up. _Could this be it? Did they find a cure?_ Her hand shook slightly as she picked up the phone. No matter how many failed attempts they endured, she got her hopes up every time she received a call. When you’re dealing with the imminent death of the love of your life, you learn to play the optimist.

“Hey?”

“Park.” Hope’s voice crackled on the line and Penelope chalked it up to a bad connection; emotion wasn’t something either of them did. The two had gotten close once they’d graduated. Finding more similarities than they would have figured while investigating together. Penelope didn’t have many friends, but the closed-off tribrid was definitely one of them. A long sigh came from the other end of the line. “It’s over Pen.”

“What? What is? Did you find a cure?” Penelope couldn’t help the hitch in her voice that came with the thought of everything finally being over. Finally being able to breathe. Finally knowing Josie was safe. Hope’s long pause did nothing to quell Penelope’s mind; bad news would wait and everyone knew that if a cure was found, after the twins, Penelope had to be the first to know.

“No.” Hope finally broke the silence with one word. One tiny word. Penelope’s heart pounded.

  
“Wha-”

  
Hope cut her off. “Penelope,” A quiet sob echoed in the background of wherever Hope was. “Penelope, Josie’s dead.” Penelope's heart stopped and her grip on the mug went slack. The crash rang throughout the empty apartment but Penelope heard nothing. Didn’t hear anything else Hope said. Didn’t hear the shrillness of her scream. Didn’t feel herself drop to the ground. Didn’t feel the hot tea that soaked into her socks. Didn’t hear anything but the ringing in her ears, the blood rushing in her head. Didn’t feel anything, anything except the terrible aching emptiness, the terrible feeling of her world, and her heart, splitting in two, leaving her falling into the nothing between it all.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

  
  
“Six months. We still had six months. It’s only October.” Penelope pleaded with a blurry figure. You wouldn’t see the witch on her knees for just anyone, but Josie wasn’t just anyone. The figure moved towards her, its shape shifting until it came into view. Josie’s soft hand caressed Penelope’s face as she knelt down, pulling the shorter girl into her arms.

“You did well. You don’t need six months. We found the cure Penny, we beat the merge.” Penelope lifted her tear stained face to meet Josie’s eyes.

“We did?” She hated how tentative she sounded, but she couldn’t deal with the possibility of failure.

“We did, baby. Everything is okay.” Penelope let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding and nestled herself tighter into Josie’s embrace. So long as the girl she loved was okay, she could let herself fall apart. Just for a moment. Curling up tighter, she let Josie’s soft body cradle her and the girl’s voice soothed her back into comfortable oblivion.

The cold hardwood was a stark contrast from the soft body from her dream, as was the crushing feeling pinning her to the floor. Her skin was sticky with tears and blood. She realized she had fallen on the mug shards from last night. Her socks had dried stiff with the tea and if she left it any longer, she’d get ants. But she couldn't bring herself to care, couldn’t bring herself to move her body. It wasn’t worth it. The ants could eat her rotting corpse for all she cared. There was nothing left but the full-bodied pain of knowing. Knowing she’d failed. Knowing Josie was gone. Knowing there was nothing she could do. Opening her eyes a sliver, she saw dull light shining through the window, reflecting off the ceramic on the floor. She knew that should be cleaned up, but nothing was really registering. Penelope closed her eyes again and tried to will herself back to sleep, back to a place where nothing hurt.

The loud banging on her front door, however, decided for her. Staying on the floor would not be part of her agenda.  
“Penelope! Let us in!” Hope yelled through the thin wood.

“Please Peez.” MG chimed in softly.

“Fuck it.” Penelope heard Hope mutter, she could do nothing except blink. The door swung open with a click and MG and Hope looked around before their eyes settled on Penelope’s prone form in shock.

“I honestly expected worse,” MG said, moving to clean up the broken mug as Hope rushed to where Penelope lay. Picking up the girl’s head, Hope settled Penelope in her lap. Taking the rag MG offered her, Hope gently cleaned Penelope’s face. It took all the effort she had for Penelope to settle her gaze on Hope’s face. Her eyes made their way over the girl’s features, taking in the dark circles and tear stains. She wasn’t alone. She wasn’t the only one hurting Penelope realized. The thought gave her a little strength and taking a deep breath, she stood up and let Hope lead her to the couch. MG placed a fresh cup of coffee in her hands before sitting down next to her, draping his arm over her shoulders. MG might be a handful at times, but he always knew how to help, and she loved him all the more for it. Hope took a seat across from the two.

“I don’t know how much you absorbed last night, but you need to know the rest of what happened.” Hope started. Penelope took a deep breath and nodded at her to go on. She sipped her coffee as Hope explained. Lizzie had had a bad episode, her paranoia had gone through the roof and when Josie had tried to calm her down, she had siphoned an insane amount of magic and just let it explode. Josie never stood a chance. She was dead the moment her body hit the wall. Penelope held up a hand, stopping Hope’s words. The younger witch focused on her breathing. _In and out, in and out, in and out._ Josie’s words replayed back to her, bringing a fresh wave of tears that she fought down.

“Is Lizzie okay?” Penelope asked, shocking herself, she and Lizzie were still not on great terms, but they could stand one another for five minutes.

“Physically yes. Anything else, hell no.” Hope replied.

Penelope nodded. “I need to go,” twisting her fingers she looked for words that wouldn’t come.

MG, sensing what she meant, filled in. “You need to lie down. Process. I’m sure none of that happened last night on the floor.” Penelope looked down at her hands. The boy took that as confirmation and helped her up. He pushed her towards her room. “Go. Hope and I will take care of things.” Penelope nodded numbly and made her way to her bed. The small bit of clarity she’s mustered was leaving her and rapidly being replaced by a swirling mess of thoughts she couldn’t hope to make sense of. Josie. Dead. Gone. Her light. Gone. That smile. Gone. Everything they had. Gone. Everything they could have had. Gone.

The girl thudded down on to the mattress. Penelope wished it could swallow her whole and take her to wherever Josie was. She hoped it was good, warm. Josie deserved at least that. Hell Josie deserved the world. She wasn’t going to get it, though.

Her body was safe, leaving Penelope’s mind to roam free To explore everything she’d learned recently. She had been so damn confident that they would stop this. She figured they would have had so much more time. Even if they didn’t stop it, she’d thought Josie would be the one to win. And yes, Josie would have been crushed by Lizzie’s death, but they’d have gotten through it. It wasn’t supposed to go like this, she’d had a plan. They were supposed to grow old together. And even if Josie didn’t take her back, at least she would have lived. Hot tears fell down Penelope’s face, her pillow muffling the quiet sobs. She would have endured all the physical pain in the world over and over than go through this. She thought she’d felt it all, love, hate, despair, hope. Heartbreak. Oh god. She thought, there’s no way in heaven or hell heartbreak could begin to sum this up.

  
Train of thought after train of thought, everything came and went. But nothing stayed in Penelope’s mind for more than a few minutes and she was content to let it happen. She didn’t want to dwell on anything but her brain seemed to have other plans. Her memories of Josie played on a loop. The gentle curve of her cheek, the sparkle in her eyes, the softness of her lips. Her strength, her selflessness, her kindness. Josie had flaws but god, her better qualities outshone them. Penelope had always been convinced the siphoner was something of an angel. Now she definitely was one. The image of Josie with wings and a halo glowed on the inside of Penelope’s eyes. With that image burning itself into her brain, sleep finally opened its arms to her and Penelope went willingly into its embrace. The heavy dark easing her into weightlessness. Her mind took mercy on the girl and the unconscious was broken by nothing. Just empty, dreamless dark.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

Penelope stared at the clock on her nightstand and the red number blinked back at her. She’d been awake for hours but had no motivation to get up. A soft knock on her door stirred her and breaking out of her current state, she sat up.  
“Come in.” Hope pushed the door open and gave the girl a tentative smile.

“Hey, um. I have some bad news.”

Penelope sighed and, figuring nothing could really get any worse, motioned for Hope to sit down. “What’s up.”

Hope settled herself on the bed. She rested her hand gently on Penelope’s legs. The contact, while new, wasn’t uncommon for them and the girl welcomed it. She would have also welcomed a hug but her pride kept her from asking. She was broken enough, she didn’t need anyone to see just how much. “MG and I have to go back to Virginia. There was another Lizzie problem and neither Alaric or Caroline are in any state to handle it. I figured we could at least try, we’re the closest to her next to - .” The girl’s voice broke and she had to force herself to get the name out. “Josie.” Hope swallowed hard. “The funeral is in two weeks. It would have been sooner but they had to give people time to get there. We’ll come back to get you in four days okay? There’s gonna be a memorial beforehand.”

Penelope would have bit back some snarky remark had she had one. But her attitude had run dry and she could only nod.

“Will you be okay? I could probably get MG to stay if you really need him.”

“No. I can manage. Go do your thing. Lizzie needs you two.”

Hope’s gratitude read plainly in her eyes. She stood up and opened the door to leave. “Thanks, Pen. I’ll see you.”

The witch nodded and Hope closed the door. A few minutes and some rustling later Penelope heard the front door shut. _Hope Mikaelson, a woman of few words and much action_. She thought. Hope had grown blunter as time had passed, preferring to get done what needed to get done and move on to the next objective. It was an admirable trait, but her absence stung a little. Realizing that the two had left nothing for her to work on in her apartment, Penelope rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. It seemed the universe was pushing her back to sleep and who was she to complain?

 

//

 

  
She woke a while later, the only indication that time had passed was the warm afternoon light that filtered through her sheer curtain. Penelope realized that despite the fact that she wasn’t hungry in the slightest, she hadn’t eaten in some thirty-ish hours. Rousing herself, she drifted into the kitchen and pulled open the fridge door. An orange bowl that hadn’t been there yesterday caught her eye and she pulled it out. Opening it, she smiled. MG, amazing friend that he was, had left her soup. Chicken noodle it appeared. Cheesy boy. She leaned on the counter as she reheated the meal, wondering how she ended up with such wonderful people.

As good a cook as MG was, and as much as she loved his soup, eating the food was a challenge and she mostly stirred noodles around with her spoon. The soup had gone cold by the time she took an actual bite. Penelope knew the flavor was there, she’d enjoyed too many of MG’s meals to think otherwise, but it just tasted bland. The soft chunks could have been cardboard for all she knew or cared.

 

  
///

 

  
The morning sun was warm on her pale face but she pulled her jacket tighter around her body as she wandered the paths of the empty park. The fall leaves were beautiful and she usually loved watching them change color but all she could think about was how a certain leaf looked like Josie’s eyes. Josie’s beautiful brown eyes. Eyes she would never again get lost in, would never again see light up, would never again drown in. Eyes that would never get to see the beautiful season, would never see another late night or early morning, another star, another book. Eyes that would never see or be seen again. The thought almost made Penelope choke on the breeze. Wiping the tears away, she blamed them on the cold wind, justifying her pain to herself and turned sharply to leave. A soft light flitted through the trees and reflected on a small pond, creating a small wonderland in that instant and it was all Penelope could do not to break down heaving right there on the trail.

 

  
///

 

  
Penelope twisted the screechy faucet off and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself. Steam filled the bathroom and the mirror was foggy. She was sure her skin was red and raw from the overly hot water, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter. It didn’t physically hurt, much like everything else recently. The witch sighed and wiped off the mirror. The girl staring back at her wasn’t someone she recognized. Pale and defeated, skinnier than she’d been. Her wet hair hung limply around her shoulders and of course, that was the part she identified with. It had been days since she’d met her own eyes and raising her chin, she found the confidence to do so. It was scarily different and hauntingly familiar. The normally deep green was shallow and dull, her pain showing clearly through them. Eyes may have been windows to the soul, but that was a room Penelope didn’t want to see. She already knew what made a home there.

 

  
///

 

  
Sorting through her laundry, Penelope let her hands take over the task while her mind drifted. Hope had been the last person to wash her clothes and with the girl coming to pick her up the next day, Penelope knew she couldn’t put the chore off any longer. A worn fabric brought her back to the present and looking down she saw the Salvatore logo emblazoned on a familiar hoodie. It had been one of the few things she’d never returned to Josie after their break up. She had never been able to part with it and had forgotten she had it. Dropping the hoodie, Penelope’s hands went to her mouth and the girl fell to her knees. She dropped her head into her hands, and in a dingy laundromat in the midst of New York City. Penelope Park broke down and sobbed.

 

 

//

 

 

Arriving back at Salvatore was like a fever dream. Arriving back with Josie gone; a nightmare Penelope never wanted to have. She followed Hope as the girl led her to a spare room. The school was temporarily closed and with no students milling about, the place felt like something akin to a movie set. Nothing was really to be touched, and the people were ghosts in their own lives. Hope dismissed herself quickly after letting Penelope in, yet another thing reminiscent of her high school days. The witch lied down on the bed and stared at the ceiling. She’d spent so many nights lying awake, looking at a roof identical to this one, wondering how her life would go. She guessed she would have been pretty damn upset if she’d been told.

While thinking back to high school, a switch flipped in Penelope's head; she remembered a lesson she’d had in magical history. She jumped up and flung the door open, not bothering to close it as she ran through the school. Navigating twisting and turning halls as if she was still sixteen, Penelope’s mind and feet raced. She had found that lesson interesting and while the point that caught her attention was barely a footnote, she’d spent hours in the library that night researching. The fact that witches had managed to come up with such a spell, a spell that arguably went against nature itself; a witches’ one true master, was fascinating, and she’d been insatiable on her quest to find out everything about it. Her knowledge of that particular subject had faded, but it had been what piqued her interest in dark magic and ultimately led to her developing new spells and testing forbidden theories. Reaching the library, she went straight to the back. The book she was looking for was technically a history book, but as it dealt heavily with dark magic, it was kept in the restricted section. Available only with explicit teacher permission. Permission Penelope had obtained years ago. She scoured the dusty shelves, turning racks and pushing books around until a small, red textbook fell to the ground with a thud. Her breathing became shallow, if her theory was right, she might have a way to see Josie. But if she was wrong… Penelope couldn’t bear the thought and pushed it from her mind. Sitting down at one of the tables, she carefully flattened the pages and began searching for the section she was pinning her hopes on.

The reading took hours. The book, while small, was thick, and the print was tiny. But through tedious research, she found it. With bated breath, she read the chapter, against her will her hopes soared and she found it confirmed her theory. The footnote that listed the small number of witches who could perform the spell was under a small, hand-drawn bird. A raven. The symbol commonly associated with those who can travel between the world of the living and the dead.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

  
Penelope found MG rifling through one of the cabinets in the kitchen. She could've laughed at how familiar the situation was, but instead, she pushed down the nostalgia pricking at her skin and called out to the boy, startling him.

  
“Jesus P, don’t jump out at a guy like that.”

“Sorry. Look, I need your help and you’re not gonna like it.” MG’s face dropped and he turned, giving her his full attention.

“What’s up?”

“Do you remember magical history sophomore year?”

MG shrugged. “With Mr. Williams? Vaguely.”

“Well, we covered a coven of witches who performed ah, forbidden spells. Spells that the magical community doesn’t exactly approve of.” Penelope wrung her hands together. She didn’t dare visit the witch alone and MG was the only one who she knew would support her. He had to. Even if he hated it, she couldn’t go alone. Not without him. He had to understand.

“Wait, Pen, you don’t mean dark magic?” MG gave her an incredulous look. She shot him a weak smile and nodded. “No… Peez.” He sighed. “I know you miss her, we all do. But Josie is gone.”

“I know, MG. I swear I know.” Penelope paused to stop her voice’s shaking but the attempt was futile, “I have to see her. I have to know.”

“Know what Pen?” MG’s voice was soft, and while she knew he knew what she meant, she told him anyway.

“I have to know if she still feels...felt the same.”

MG let out a long breath and shook his head. “I am so gonna regret this. Alright, explain it to me. How’s this going to work?” Penelope rushed forward and tackled him in a hug, he took a moment, then returned it. The girl pulled away after a beat and they sat down at the island.

“Okay, so there is a witch from that coven who lives a few hours from here out back of a small town. What we do is find her, convince her that she should help us and have her perform the spell. If it’s done right, it will show up in the form of a raven tattoo.” MG listened quietly, nodding along. Penelope had known he’d agree but she hadn’t bet on it being so soon and she was more grateful for his support than she could put into words.

She finished explaining and MG was silent for a few minutes, thinking through the plan. Then his forehead crinkled, “How do you use it to Josie?”

 _Shit_. Penelope wrinkled her nose, “I haven’t actually gotten that far.” She admitted. “The book didn’t say. I was going to ask the witch that one.” MG raised an eyebrow and stood.  
“When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow. At six.” Penelope told the boy, who was looking less pleased by the minute.

MG started to walk out of the kitchen then stopped. “Penelope are you sure?” He asked. Look at the boy a realization startled her, he might have been a vampire the same age as her, but he was still in the body of a sixteen-year-old boy, and right now, the fear on his face shown clear, truly making him look that age. This was the first time in years Penelope had seen him scared. The look frightened her but she pushed through. She had to. For Josie.

“No. But I have to try.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

  
The drive down was filled with tense silence and worried looks. Penelope didn’t try to make conversation and MG didn’t try to engage her. He just let her mind wrap around what they were doing. Penelope figured he was doing the same, trying to make sense of what was about to happen. The town slowly came into view and the closer they got, the less the town’s cheery facade covered up the despair that was painted in it. Crumbling buildings and cracking roads only got worse the further in they got. The dead-eyed stares from the few residents was enough to make Penelope want to turn back. But, she took a deep breath and scanning the street signs, she turned the car onto the road that would take them to the southern edge of town. The closer to the witch they got, the fewer signs of life there were and the stronger the magic in the air was. Penelope could almost feel her own crackle in response.

“Here.” MG pointed out a sad excuse for a building. “This is the place.” The cottage was small and rotting, how it was still standing was anyone's guess. Once they stepped out of the car, the walk to the entrance became a dance of swatting bugs and stepping over broken glass and tools. The woman was rumored to be a witch in the town and they’d done their best to drive her out. They’d only succeeded in pressing her to the outskirts though, and the witch retaliated with the death of the old town.

Penelope raised a shaking fist to the door and tried to no avail to steady her nerves before knocking, but before she could do anything, the door creaked open, long and loud.

“Penelope Park. Milton Greasley. Come in.” A croaking voice called out to them. “I’ve been watching you.” MG gave Penelope a look, offering her one more chance to back out. She broke their shared gaze and stepped into the house, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. Once it did she took in her surrounding; moss-covered walls, an empty fireplace, dust floating through the air, and the oldest woman she’d ever seen. Her face was almost too wrinkled to be considered a face and she was seated at a table that Penelope figured shouldn’t even be standing.

“You know who we are?” Penelope hated how weak she sounded, she was long past being a scared little girl. She had faced many magical beings far scarier than this. And yet, the sight of the ancient witch unnerved her.

“Yes, I do. I also know what you want.” The witch replied, a strange lilt to her voice becoming noticeable.

“Then will you do it?” The girl held her breath, she wouldn’t take no for an answer, she couldn’t. She was too close.

“That depends. Do you know exactly what it is you want? Do you know the price of this action? Do you know it and still accept?” The old woman’s face grew more dire, the dark room giving her a glint that suggested something inhuman lived within her brittle body.

MG stepped up to Penelope’s shoulder and muttered to her, “Peez I know you wanna see Jo, but are you sure you wanna go through with this? We can still book it out of here.” She shook her head at him, trying to tell him of her desperation with her eyes, even though she knew it shone clear as day.

The witch went on, ignoring MG’s interruption. “Tampering with the natural order of things isn’t to be taken lightly, girl. Nor is it brushed aside by gods and spirits alike. Do you accept the risks? Do accept your fate?” The witch’s voice rose, crooning and sinister. “Do you accept that your life will be walked alongside spirits, never to be wholly yours again. Do you accept them whispering the secrets in your ears forevermore?”

Penelope looked the woman dead in the wrinkled hole where her eyes should have. “I do.” Not a second later was her body overcome by fire, burning from within. The searing pain radiated from her forearm and the world spun. The scar on her back seemed to brand itself deeper into her skin and thousands of whispers overlapped, filling her mind, gaining volume until they were screaming. Penelope tried in vain to grab both her arm and her head while she stumbled backward into MG. The boy pulled her into his arms and Penelope would have smiled at his actions, he was as protective as ever, but the thought couldn’t break the whirlwind in her head. The pain in her arm grew and she tried to claw at the skin but MG held fast, not allowing her to move.

Slowly, the pain subsided, the voices dimmed to an almost silent whisper and MG pulled her out of the house while the witch’s laugh rang in the background. Penelope left the house but the feeling that she wasn’t alone stayed with her. She chose not to mention it and instead looked at the raw skin on her arm in the sunlight. What had been smooth, unblemished flesh now was marked by a large raven spanning the length of her wrist to just before her elbow. The ink appeared burned into her skin and when she traced her fingers over it, a few whispers became clearer until she stopped. She let out a deep breath and tried not to think about the witch’s words, tried not to think about what she had just agreed to. It was for Josie, and god only knows what she’d do for Josie.

Mg decided for her that she was not going to drive and as the sun shone into their eyes, blinding Penelope, the boy finally spoke up. “Was that worth it? Will this work?” He glanced at her and for the first time, she saw just how deep his pain ran.

“It’ll work.” Penelope grimaced, ignoring MG’s worried look. “It has too.”

**Author's Note:**

> So. Sorry? If I did this right then it is sorry. I'm working on a sort of part 2, but it won't be what you expect. They're both standalone so I might make this a series thing, I haven't quite figured it out yet. I hope you liked it(who doesn't love pain) and if you want to yell at me my Tumblr is the-idea-of-stars, or you can do it in the comments(they make my life) Aight, have a good day/night.


End file.
